


In the End

by brebit6



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Protective Dean Winchester, Scared Sam, Smut, Young Sam Winchester, Zombie Apocalypse, non-canon age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8972938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brebit6/pseuds/brebit6
Summary: Dean and Sam find themselves in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. When they find people in need, they journey to help them. Along the way Dean meets a gorgeous blue-eyed, dark-haired man, and I think you all know where this is going. ;)





	1. The Meet

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever and I'm still working on it. I just need a little more motivation and I thought maybe people on this site could help me out. I appreciate any and all comments!!
> 
> Also, not beta read so any mistakes are my own.
> 
> I do not own the characters, just borrowing them for a bit.

Dean had faced many horrible things in his lifetime. When Dean was 15, he watched his mother die giving birth to his little brother Sam. When Dean was 17, he watched his father die from an alcohol induced overdose. Dean grew up raising Sam on his own with what little resources he could manage to scramble up. Dean never believed his life could get any worse, but of course, he was very wrong. Now, with Dean at a ripe age of 23, the world was going to hell. The zombie apocalypse had struck down with all its might and already a third of the worlds population was walking around chomping down on human brains. The only bright side to this gore-filled life was his brother. Sam was only 8 years old when the shit hit the proverbial fan, but he was Dean’s lifeline. Without Sam, Dean would’ve ended his life a long time ago.  
Dean and Sam moved from place to place, staying in broken down houses and abandoned convenience stores for a few months before their life took another unexpected turn. One night, while Dean and Sam were sleeping, a few Walkers had slipped past their barriers. 

 

“Could our lives seriously get any worse right now?”, questioned Dean. This was a rhetorical question of course, but Sam answered anyway. “We could be brain dead zombies.”  
Dean fixed his brother with a stare that spoke volumes on the bitch meter. They had been living on their own when the zombie apocalypse happened. Now currently bunking in an abandoned home, they were sitting on the floor munching off of the few canned goods they'd found on their last run. Their stocks were running low and it was just a matter of time before they had to move again.  
“Sammy, that was a rhetorical question dude. Save your smart ass comments for someone who cares.” At that, Dean laid down and after a few moments dozed off into a horror filled nightmare, consisting of blood, guts, and lots of missing limbs.

 

Dean woke with a gasp, unsure of what exactly prompted him to return to consciousness. He must’ve dozed off but it didn’t look much later. He sat in the dark for a few minutes waiting for his heart to calm, but then he heard the screams. Within minutes, he had Sam awake and ready to go see what was going on.  
Three men were surrounded by bloodthirsty walkers, but the screams were coming from the open van the three men must’ve just left. Four walkers surrounded the open back door, chomping down on what looked like a woman and another man who must’ve been caught by the swarm.  
Dean sprang into action, heading first for the van to dispatch of the four zombies lurking there. Then after he’d dropped them all, he headed for the large group of walkers surrounding the three men. One by one, he stabbed and killed them until they were all dead…again. Dean stopped a few feet away from the men and tried to catch his breath, but once he caught sight of the dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty, his brain-to-body functions stopped working correctly. This man, only a few inches shorter than Dean, stared back at Dean with deep gratitude swirling in his eyes.  
The staring match seemed to go on forever, but it must’ve only been a few seconds because the other two men didn’t seem to notice. The one that had been on the far left, stepped forward and introduced himself. “My name is Gabriel. And these are my brothers, Balthazar and Castiel, in that order. We really appreciate the help and we can be out of your territory as soon as necessary.” Dean just stared until his brain finally registered what Gabriel had just said. “I’m Dean and this is my little brother Sam,” Dean said while pointing at himself then his brother. “You three are welcome to stay here as long as you like. We’ll be gone by morning. This area is a bit understocked though so you might not want to stay for long.” Gabriel just nodded and Dean led them into the abandoned building that had been his and Sammy’s home for the past week.  
“You guys can have the living room tonight while me and Sammy can take the bedroom. The house has a generator but we don’t use the lights much so we don’t draw the attention of unwanted guests. Hot water works but don’t stay in too long because it’ll drain the generator. There’s a few cans of food on the kitchen table if you need them and the water is clean to drink. Any questions?” The guests shook their heads and then everyone was settling in for the night.


	2. When All Else Fails...

   The night was calm, but Dean couldn’t seem to fall asleep. It probably had to do with the blue-eyed man sleeping only one room away from his. He shook his head and rose from his bed and headed for the bathroom down the hall to see if some hot water would help him fall asleep. It was late in the night and Dean, stuck in his thoughts, didn’t even notice the lights on under the door. He walked into the bathroom and right into a wet, and very naked Castiel. Castiel bounced off of him and sprung for a towel. He managed to get it wrapped around his waist even while Dean was sputtering his apologies.

“Shit, shit sorry man. I didn’t even think to knock. God…what the hell. Sorry, I’ll leave.” Dean backed away from Castiel and stepped out of the bathroom, only to find that he had a raging hard on. Dean had only caught of glimpse of Castiel’s fine ass body, but that was all it took. How embarrassing. A rustling noise came from inside the bathroom, indicating that the man inside was hurriedly putting on his clothing. Then a gravelly voice came from inside the door he was currently leaning on.

“Dean? I can’t get out of the bathroom with you standing there.” The deep, sexual voice that floated to Dean’s brain made Dean’s cock twitch in his jeans and Dean was about ready to die from all of this embarrassment. Dean palmed his crotch while stepping away from the door, trying, unsuccessfully, to make his boner go away before Castiel came out of the bathroom. The door opened behind him, creaking as it released the steam from within. Embarrassment did not even begin to cover the rush of feelings flooding through Dean, but thankfully he could hear footsteps behind him moving away from where he stood facing the wall. At least, that's what he thought. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him so that he was face-to-face with the man causing the blood flow to his lower sections. Blue eyes met green and the staring match that ensued could rival that of any owl in the world. Castiel seemed to be looking not only at him, but through him as well. All the way to his insecurity, self-loathing, and even his crippling fear of losing Sammy. His insides were burning, his brain was turning gears faster than should've been possible, and the hand on his shoulder was making his jeans even tighter. Dean knew his cheeks were getting more and more red every second and tried to turn away, but the hand burning on his shoulder held him in place.

Castiel seemed worried, which was strange to Dean, considering no one had worried about him since his mother passed. "Dean, you seem flustered. Is everything all right?" _No, everything was not “all right"_ , Dean thought. “Yeah man, everything is fine. Just, didn't mean to walk in on you. I’m gonna turn in.” Dean sounded like a blubbering teenage girl and if that didn't up his embarrassment levels, then the amusement in Castiel's eyes definitely would. A small smile was plastered on Castiel's slightly chapped lips, and Dean almost wanted to slap it off of him. Dean watched as Castiel’s hand slowly fell from his shoulder and turned towards his makeshift room with Sammy, but not before he saw a flicker of something pass behind Castiel’s eyes. Too flustered to figure out what that flicker meant, Dean all but sprinted back down the hall to his waiting bed.

Sammy was fast asleep on their bed, meaning Dean basically had the room to himself because that boy slept like a rock. Once he was finally behind a closed, locked door, Dean relived the past fifteen minutes. The walk down the hall, opening the bathroom door to a very naked, very wet Castiel. Even the insanely embarrassing staring contest they’d had while Dean mentally tried to control the aching in his jeans. One thing Dean knew for sure, any decent sleep tonight was now officially out of the question.

***

Wood shattered, spraying splinters all over the three men in the living room. Gun shots sounded through the house, echoing through the empty rooms, waking Dean with a start. Immediately, he checked on Sam. Heart racing, he shook Sammy awake from his slumber while he stood and got dressed, throwing on his leather jacket. Pulling out his gun, he grabbed Sam's little hand and told him to stay close.  "Dean, I'm scared." "I know dude, but stay strong and stay quiet. I'll get us out of this. I always do don't I?" Dean winked at his brother before turning towards the door to hide the fear in his eyes. 

Dean couldn't hear much over the roaring in his ears except a slight ringing and lots of shouting in the living room. His hands were trembling and there was nothing he could do to make them stop, especially when he thought about the fact that his baby brother was in danger. Tip-toeing down the hall, gun in front, Sammy tucked behind, he noted the different voices. He could hear Gabriel yelling something about 'put the gun down!' and he heard another, unknown man laugh maniacally, just before another gunshot sounded through the house. 

Blood sprayed. Fear increased. Dean thought about and planned what he needed to do, but nothing he came up with kept Sam safe. He knew the men were in trouble, but they had just met. Dean shouldn't care if they lived or died, not when Sam's life is much more important. Morally caught between being a decent human being or being selfish and getting Sam the hell out of there, his choice was made for him. A man with a 5 o'clock shadow rounded the corner of the hallway and stopped in front of Dean, smiling in crazed delight.

"Well look what we have here boys! Some new friends to play with!" The man's gaze, after examining Dean from top to bottom, moved to little Sammy, who was still tucked behind Dean, holding on to the back of his shirt with strength no eight year old should have. The skinny man before him finally moved his gaze back up to Dean's tired eyes. Another, taller man, blonde and a little plump in the midsection, stepped around the corner, looking just as insane as the other man. His gaze lingered on Sam much longer than the other mans and Dean instinctively moved in front of his brother, shielding him from the intruders. "I'm Alastair and this", he said pointing to himself and then the man behind him,"is my colleague Lucifer. Wonderful name right? Why don't you both come join the party in the living room?" The man, Alastair, worded that last phrase like a question but the look in his eyes promised trouble if Dean tried anything. Slowly, Dean grabbed Sam's hand and walked the rest of the way into the living room, careful to keep Sam away from the strangers. 

Of all of the things that Dean thought he'd see when he rounded that corner, this was not it. Blood seeped into the once beige carpets, making them look ominously black and disgusting, and the wood that had been posted on the windows was torn to shreds by the same bullets that shredded the old couches. On the floor, next to the ravaged pillows, Gabriel was pressing what looked like a sheet into a wound on Balthazar's bloody shoulder. Dean knew he wouldn't survive that wound, not out here without medical help, but it was not his place to even mention it. Besides, he was way more interested in the man in the bloody trench coat, staring daggers at the evil sons of bitches behind Dean. Castiel looked downright murderous, and that would totally turn Dean on if it weren't for the trigger happy men currently holding them all hostage. 

Walking towards Castiel seemed to be the only point of action at the moment so he grabbed Sammy by the arm, making sure to put him as far away from Alastair and his cronies as possible, and crouched down, keeping his gun at the ready just in case. Dean knows that they let him keep his gun only because they know he won't try anything with Sam still in harms way. Still, it gave him some comfort to know that these men were not as smart as they thought, because Dean would give his life for his brother, no matter what the situation.

That's how it had always been. When Dean was younger, after his mom had passed, his father had fallen into an awful habit of coming home plastered. Dean was left alone to take care of Sammy and the house and even his deadbeat father. A family friend, Bobby, knew about the situation, but couldn't do anything to make John quit his habits, so he took the boys in and raised them as if they were his own. Dean learned everything there was to know about cars from Bobby, including that fact that the 67' Chevy Impala was the greatest car ever created. He also learned how to shoot a gun. Bobby was a big game hunter and loved to teach the boys the ins and outs of hunting. When Sammy was six, he shot his first bear and both Bobby and Dean couldn't have been any prouder of him that day. Dean is certainly glad that Sam never had to see their father come home drunk off his ass and fall face first on the living room couch. Dean was a better father than John could have ever been. Which is why, in this moment, he knows he will do absolutely anything to get his brother out of this fucked up situation, even if it costs him his own life. 

Alastair and his pals ransack the house, searching for food, weapons, and just anything useful, getting increasingly aggravated when they find jack shit. To his right, he can hear Gabriel telling Castiel that Balthazar is gone, only getting a nod from Castiel in response. To Dean's own surprise, no tears were shed for the fallen man, but in this day and age, dying by gunshot was a hell of a lot better than dying from the insane fever a bite creates. The crawlers were in their own way pretty fucking terrifying, but Dean knows how to handle himself. He also knows that Sam is pretty resourceful himself and that if it ever came down to it, Sam would be able to survive should they be separated. Dean made sure of that. They even had a few code words for situations such as this, and had a list of safe houses memorized, that way they'd have somewhere to go if something happened. Although Dean hoped it never got that far, he was still grateful Bobby had taught them how to mark these things down in their minds. 

Life in the apocalypse was only about finding shelter, finding food, and surviving. Losing people along the way was just an awful tragedy that unfortunately couldn't be avoided. 

Dean glanced to his right, watching Castiel watch the home invaders and he wondered, not for the first time, what was going on inside of that head. As if sensing Dean's stare, Castiel turned towards him, the rage roiling around in his eyes softening a bit. Dean mouthed out his condolences, but Castiel just turned his gaze towards Sam, sadness enveloping those beautiful baby blues. Dean's heart clenched at the sight of this man even giving Sam any attention, and right then, he knew. He knew that he would not leave today without this man in tow. They may have only known each other for one night, but something in the quiet yet confident manner the man gave off made Dean trust him. 

A glass shattering in the kitchen captured Deans attention, turning to stare at the man that was now charging for them, rage practically pouring off of him in waves. Castiels tensed up beside him and Gabriel reached for the gun he'd dropped on the floor. A newfound terror set in when Dean noticed the man was headed straight for him. Standing up, he squared his shoulders and brought his gun level with Lucifers face. "Take one more step and I will blow your fricking' brains out. I don't care how many people you have outside of this house." Lucifer seemed to hesitate, a flicker of surprise and something else, like fear shone on his face, but then a smirk crossed his face. "You think I'm scared of you? You think I'm just gonna get on my knees and cry like a newborn child? Well GOOD MORNING VIETNAM, because you just called for war!" Dean's confusion lasted only a second before Alastair bust into the room, gun in hand, followed by three other men that must've been outside. Gabriel stood, wielding his pistol like a pro, looking to the world like a man on a mission.* Castiel was still crouched on the ground, alert and slowly shifting himself towards Dean...wait, no. Not towards Dean, but towards Sam, who had grabbed Dean's spare pistol from his waistband. Sam stood, coming to Deans side, leveling the small weapon at one of the angry newcomers. A burst of pride shot through Dean right before he felt the shudder of inexplicable doom that was surely to come their way. 

"Now now boys. Why don't you be good little soldiers and put those guns down before you join the other man on the floor?" Alastair pointed to where Balthazar lay cold and lifeless on the floor, knowing that this would irk Gabriel and Castiel, but somehow they managed to keep their faces neutral. Dean saw the underlying rage in both of their eyes but knew they would keep it in check, if only just until they figure out how to get out of gun range. "Why don't you go rot in hell, you stupid son of a bitch." Those were the last words spoken before an all out war exploded in the small living room. Bullets were flying, blood was dripping, and terror was oozing its way down Dean's spine. Sam was on the other side of the room where he'd jumped behind the couch to avoid the bullets. Dean was on the floor, lying behind the overturned coffee table, shooting with a fervor he'd never experienced. But then, something was wrong. There was no noise, no more gunfire. Dean peeked his head over the table to see that all of his fears had come real. There, across the room, Lucifer had Sam by the throat, gun pointed to his head, and then nothing. Silence. Quiet rage flooded his veins, hitting every nerve ending, his skin coming alive with the adrenaline of the fight, ears roaring over anything that Lucifer was trying to say. Fear. It was real. It was alive. And it was walking the halls of this house at this very moment, pungent with the stench of poisonous thoughts. If asked later, Dean couldn't tell you what was going through his mind at that very moment, but when he charged, consumed by his hatred, he didn't notice the one thing that would stand in his way. A gun lifted. Trembling hands smeared with blood aimed for Dean, and then there was nothing, but the fast approaching death, and the all-consuming silence it promised. The shot echoed through the house, leaving memories of itself in the walls of this abandoned house, and then Dean was on the floor, breath gone and head stinging from the knock on the floor. 

Something was wrong though. He didn't feel any pain. Maybe it was shock? But then he felt the weight on top of him move, and all of a sudden he knew exactly what happened. Dark, unruly hair tickled his chin. A new feeling entered him then. A feeling of absolute despair wracked his body when he sat up to see the man that had just pushed him out of the way of a speeding bullet. Blood dripped. Blue eyes blinked. Then chaos ensued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This particular phrase was taken from the broadway Hamilton. I do not own it, nor anything but the amazing soundtrack it has.
> 
> Any and all comments are welcome :)


End file.
